


Specters In The Night

by 78Crescen1_CATs492



Category: Echo (Visual Novel 2019)
Genre: Basically the Divine Comedy, Chase isn't coming until the end, Ghosts, M/M, Spoliers for TJ's Route's ending, Sydney is aged up, TJ ending but in the afterlife I guess? idk
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-30
Updated: 2020-05-30
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:47:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24449809
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/78Crescen1_CATs492/pseuds/78Crescen1_CATs492
Summary: Although time is irrelevant in the afterlife, it has been about 2 years after the hysteria in 2015.Flynn is still trying to come to terms with his situation and with the help of his best friend, both may find peace in eternity. If only they knew how painful this may be...
Relationships: Flynn Moore & Carl Hendricks, Flynn Moore & Sydney Bronson, Flynn Moore & Tobias Jedediah "TJ" Hess, Sydney Bronson & Carl Hendricks, Sydney Bronson & Jenna Begay
Comments: 1
Kudos: 4





	Specters In The Night

**Author's Note:**

> My 1000 billion thanks to @PenessePenesse on Twitter for editing this. Thanks so much dude!

It seemed like forever ago when Flynn had sat down on the couch. An otter sat next to him, but it seems even the otter he knew so well melted into the array of bodies around him. The room was more red than the make-up on the more promiscuous women, giving Flynn a deep and painful gripping in his stomach.  
In some ways it felt like he was in hell, but in other ways he felt like the world around him was just what he would have wanted. Hot guys everywhere he turned, his best friend next to him, and all the alcohol he could drink. Maybe he was just freaking out or maybe it was the tenth bottle of whiskey getting to him.  
He took a gander at Sydney, who was handling a fox chick with one hand around her breasts while holding a giant whiskey bottle in the other. It still felt really weird to see him here and to see him like that. Flynn tried to relate it to when he knew him on Earth, but those two otters seemed miles away from each other. He was tall, surprisingly muscular and wore a constant stream of black leather and tight fitting T-shirts.  
A feline pawed at Flynn’s arm, him giving a sharp massage with his claws. He was a lanky persian cat with big ears and a very mischievous grin on his muzzle. He pulled Flynn in for a kiss, pushing himself onto the gila monster and letting his paws glide across him. While Flynn did not resist, he could not say he was into it. It reminded him of when someone in the Smoke Room kissed him: it was an annoyance.  
Flynn gently pushed the cat away, shaking his head so as not to curse him out and cause a scene. The feline seemed very disappointed, but shrugged it off. He scanned the room and laid eyes on a lonely looking fennec fox who was sitting alone drinking a beer. The persian cat gave Flynn one last kiss on the cheek before strutting to the vulpin. Flynn felt a little better knowing he wasn’t the only one in sitting alone.  
He threw down another shot of whiskey. It tasted delicious, but that only made it worse somehow. There wasn’t any kind of burn to it. It was holding back all the best parts of whiskey!  
A band was playing on a small stage in the middle of the club. They kranked out song after song with some of the greatest skill with instruments that Flynn had ever seen. He was never a fan of music in general, but he was no fool when it came to seeing skill.The singer was great at what she was doing: not one note was missed and she seemed confident that she was up there for a purpose. Flynn wondered what it would be like to be on that stage. Sometimes him and Sydney would sing some of the otter’s favorite songs and he didn’t think he was that bad. The idea of knowing what you’re meant to do was something Flynn really envied. It was one of the few things he idolized about Jenna; she always seemed to know what to do. Flynn laughed at himself. Who could have guessed that he would ever have anything good to say about that fennec.  
The room was filled with such a fun loving attitude. He felt really guilty knowing that he wasn’t having fun himself. He was the stick in the mud this time. He wanted to escape. He wanted to jump out of his seat and run outside. He didn’t even know if there was an outside and definitely not how to get there. He just wanted to be gone either way.  
He again looked at Sydney… he wondered if he would miss him if he left for a little bit. Sydney probably wanted to be alone with his alcohol, women, and all his cool friends.  
Maybe Flynn was being an interruption. He imagined that they would still be friends, but that was way too unrealistic. He hasn’t seen this man since he was a boy. He could barely even recognize him when Flynn saw him again. Maybe he was alone here after all.  
Sydney gave the fox a kiss and she went away to the bar. He giggled and flopped on his back-twisting like a pretzel-on the red leather couch. He was obviously drunker than anyone in here and Flynn knew it well. His eyes were glassy and bloodshot and he could barely move his body to push an empty bottle away. He was pitching a tent in his pants and drooling like he just had his first kiss.That made Flynn feel uncomfortable, but not entirely in a bad way.  
He wouldn’t lie to himself: he had a small crush on Sydny back when they were kids. It was one of those crushes that came and went, but ever since he and Sydney reconnected he had felt those feelings again. Maybe he would talk to him about it when he wasn’t feeling so shitty.  
He didn’t know if he should ask Syd what to do. He didn’t want to fuck up any good times. He never cared much about keeping how he feels down for the sake of not being an annoyance, but this felt different. It felt like he was just being dramatic; nothing was wrong. He breathed in and out. He went to a therapist a long time ago that told him to try it out when he felt overwhelmed or angry. It never worked, but he did it anyway. It made him feel just a little bit more in control.  
He tapped the otter on the shoulder, only getting a response after ten minutes of Sydney aimlessly looking at him, trying to register what the gila was doing there, “Hey dude,” Syd said in a lower groggy voice, giving a goofy smile in return. “Hey Syd, could we head back to your place? I’m clocked out,” Flynn had to raise his voice both get through Sydney’s intoxication and the blaring music.  
Sydney looked at him with reproach, “What? The party’s going for another three hours! The band hasn’t even played their new album! You’re already bored?” Sydney chuckled, turning into a concealed worry.. Flynn squinted his brow, glaring at the otter.  
Of all the times he had to bring Sydney over because he didn’t want to go home, now he wants him to suck it up for this stupid party? Flynn rolled his eyes. It reminded him of TJ: always having to silence himself for him and do whatever the lynx wanted. Tj... Flynn felt a twist in his chest. The name itself brought back 1,000 different emotions, none of them good.  
He took a deep breath in and a long breath out. When he was going to a therapist and he mentioned Sydney’s name, the therapist told him to do that.  
Despite his intoxication, Sydney wasn’t blind to the gila’s outward anxieties. “What’s wrong with you? You couldn’t wait for this party! All day you were talking on and on about it! Come on… why don’t you have another beer?” Sydney waved down a waiter and the spunky rabbit pulled a beer from an ice box. Sydney tried to put the beer to the tip of Flynn’s mouth, but just ended up poking Flynn in the cheek,“Open up you big baby,” Sydney chuckled.  
“Get that fucking thing away from me,” Flynn spat back, pushing the beer away from him; Sydney’s face crushed into a look of indignation.  
“Flynn you sick or something?” The otter moved closer to the lizard.  
“What? I don’t wanna be around a bunch of sweaty, horny strangers all night,” Flynn tried to calm his energy, but had a hard time not making his voice into a sharp pinch.  
Sydney just became somberlooking, slumping in his seat, “Flynn… lighten up a little, this is-”  
“Yeah some party you wanted to go,” Flynn cut him off, earning a scowl from Sydney.  
“Just have another shot-”  
“I don’t want another mother fucking shot, muskshit!” Flynn screamed, but over the music no one except for Sydney heard the insult.  
Sydney fixed his expression into a deadpan stare; all the worry and concealed annoyance on his face melted away in an instant. He stood up straight with his drink in hand, “Down the hall and to the left,” he said in a low dry tone. Sydney left without another word, disappearing into the crowd.  
Flynn rose aggressively from his seat-accidentally spilling his alcohol on the couch-and stomped out with a look of a budding disdain on his own face. He bumped into some dancers and waiters as he walked through the dance floor to a long hallway at the back of the club. It was decorated with a dark red wallpaper with a golden flower pattern; combined with the alcohol, it dizzied him even more. At the very end of the hallway, there was a small door that completely contradicts the bar on the inside. It was a metal push door, the kind Flynn remembered from his school days that the weaker kids would have issues getting through. He didn’t hesitate to force himself through to the otherside.  
The world outside the club was practically empty. There was nothing but a barren grassland under a starry night sky. He was not too familiar with so much grass surrounding him on all sides; desert had been the only environment he had known for so long. Despite the afterlife being full of it, he just never got used to seeing it. The sensations of the blades against his scales was a very strange one. It tickled and pricked at his feet and the creeping and scratching it made was like his feet were covered in bugs. The sky above was the one thing that really kept him at home. When he was younger, he would sometimes look up at the clear nights of Echo. It was peaceful and every star was in view around the moon. The sky here was just like back home. Home… where even would that be? Flynn didn’t think much of it; he didn’t like his home much anyway.  
Looking out into the distance, he saw a lone tree standing in the middle of the sea of vegetation; it layed just below the hill the club sat on. He shrugged, it would be a place to be where he wouldn’t get disoriented in the fields. Walking down, he could feel the dried dirty ground on his feet and digging into it was oddly satisfying. The tree was one that he had never seen before: it was short with many thick branches holding up a roof of leaves. Flynn wasn’t all that interested in the tree, however; a tree was a tree. Around the base of the trunk, the grass left leaving a soft patch of dirt. Flynn slammed himself down, laying his back against the tree. It was only then he realised how hot it was out here or rather, how not cold it was. It felt just like Echo, if not a little more humid. The tree was a restful escape to a more dry heat for Flynn. Through the leaves of the tree and in the distance of the waves of grass, he could see the stars again. They twinkled and sparkled like the lights of a plane flying overhead. After Sydney died, Flynn spent a lot of time just staring up at the sky; he didn’t even think about anything, just stared. Flynn couldn’t even answer why. He stopped after he turned 16, but it always made him comfortable to take time to stare at something-not just the stars-for some time.  
Everything felt so much like Earth. All the little things that he never paid attention to came back to him: the feeling of sand on his claws, the very slight breeze, the night sky, and the yellow and gold colors surrounding him. It was incredibly pleasant. It was like Echo, but with all the druggies removed.  
Flynn sat in a perpetual silence for who knows how long. He stared up at the sky, thinking of nothing in particular.They were all the little mundane things he had to worry about on Earth: rent, dinner, work, and fishing. He wondered if he could find a good place to catch something big, like a swordfish or something. He took a look back up at the boring square that held the club inconspicuously inside. There wasn’t a sound of the music or the smell of alcohol and sweat. Hopefully Sydney was having a good time. ‘Good for him,’ Flynn groaned as the quick exchange of insults returned to his head. Sydney always got to have a good time as he sat outside. He recalled the last party they went to. It was a similar ordeal, except then it was at a friend of Sydney’s house. There he could easily slip out of the way and Sydney didn’t know the difference, It was like he wasn’t there in the first place. That made Flynn really...really sad. He feels like he would have been angry about his best friend not noticing him, but it just brought him down. Maybe today was the day Sydney had enough of him? Did he just lose his best friend, again? The idea brought a crunch to his chest he hadn’t felt since the day the otter died, or when he discovered just how he died.  
‘No, that’s bullshit,’ Flynn rationalized. The otter and him have been together for years, he wouldn't just toss him away for not wanting to go to a few parties. At least, he was pretty sure he wouldn’t. All this party and friend stuff made him think about Carl.He took the ram to a club in Payton once and the ram kept bleating with each movement of a stranger. A girl even tried to talk to him and he just ran into the bathroom. Flynn then spent the next 30 minute drive explaining to Carl that he had to lighten up, but the ram wouldn’t budge the next time Flynn had asked him to come with him. Flynn slumped, sighing and rubbing his forehead. He lost more than just Sydney. He didn’t want to move, even if he couldn’t feel his legs anymore. When he first arrived in… this place, he had gotten put in front of a lake and told to sit until he was ready. He had been so exposed to the elements that he had spent days sick and vomiting from the diseases he got. His scales began to dry and crack off until patches of his body were red and scabby. Through all of it though, he thought about Echo. Even in death, he couldn’t escape that town; it was everything he could get in his head. It was all the little things: the way Carl would laugh at his jokes, how he and Leo would fish, how he and Sydney used to play, how he and Chase used to be friends, how he and Jenna would fight, and how TJ and him would… well, he would conceal his anger at him, the smell of a good dinner, the sound of Daxton’s weird music, and the slight happiness he felt when everyone came back to hang out back in 2015.  
All of that drifted in his head for a long time, but it was still there. It didn’t want to leave him be. It felt like a person talking to him, but it was always him at the end of the day. He always asked why he did the things he did. Daily, he thought about Carl. He left him in that dying town. He constantly wondered if he was okay. The thought of him being alone with only Leo, Jenna, and TJ didn’t leave him feeling very comfortable.  
Flynn could sense his face tendered for tears. He had been crying a lot more since he died and he never bothered to stop it. There was no one left to judge him but himself, and he had too many doubts in his head to trust his previous instincts. So, he cried. The tears dripped out of his eyes as he stood up before falling at the ground as his legs stabbed and pricked. He screamed out curses and profanities into the night sky.  
The truth of his pathetic state came to him in one giant wave. He couldn’t bare to look at himself. He was just like his parents… leaving everything he was meant to care for in a desert town. He stood back up, still shaking but able to keep his feet on the ground. This didn’t feel like Heaven and it never did to Flynn. He really was pathetic; he was a loser and a failure. Flynn sat back on the ground and was amazed at himself.  
Was this gonna be it forever? Everyday he would think of Earth and Echo and desire to return. It was like some kind of mold on the walls of his friends’ houses. He stunk up the air and suffocated them. He suffocated Sydney’s heaven. He was the worst kind of mold: it just wouldn’t leave anyone alone. Maybe he would have to be the fumigator too.  
Back on Earth he would solve this by fucking. It was a great solution, genius even. Why was he not fucking right now? He couldn’t answer that. Maybe he felt worse! Who knew that having hot men around constantly made him less horny. He giggled at his own observation.  
Flynn rolled his eyes. He really was a horny bastard. He wondered how much Sydney fucked up here. It’s not like he was ugly, just that… you had to know him for a while to find the fun in him. He seemed pretty popular with that fox and every girl seemed to look at him, however. He got a ping of envy, and he wondered what Sydney’s penis looked like. Probably pretty thick, long, not a can but certainly not thin like Flynn’s; he was sure that was why he was popular with women. He got another ping of envy.  
He stopped the train of thought there; it just made him remember the fight they had. Jenna would have given him a hard time about going to apologize. Usually, he had to have Leo push him into it, but there wasn’t anyone to force him and Sydney had a lot of things he would do before asking for an apology.  
Flynn rolled his eyes with a giant sigh. This was going to be such a pain. Gotta get the sad lizard eyes and say how much you regret what you did-even if you don’t regret it at all-just to make some asshole feel better about themselves.  
Fuck that...  
He did want to do it for Sydney, however. He didn’t deserve to get yelled at by Flynn at a big party he was looking forward to. He was the asshole, like always. He’d be disappointed if he didn’t expect it.  
As if someone had flipped a switch, Flynn sat up straight up and slapped himself in the face. It was like he was back in highschool: laying around and hating himself. No, You’re dead, Flynn, he reminded himself. He couldn’t spend the rest of eternity living like he was still on Earth.  
He sprinted back to the building in the distance, a new determination on his face. As he went to push the door, he hit it with a giant slam and was sent straight back to the ground. He forgot it was a push door. 

The bar was much darker than before, and the music-while still being played by a typical rock band- was slower and peaceful. As he peered around the hallway, his eyes caught on the otter he had been looking for. He was near the end of the dancefloor with the fox he was with earlier. She was a tall red fox that definitely surpassed him enough in height to make it pretty funny seeing this well statured otter be overtaken.  
They looked like they were having a really good time. They were slow dancing to the beat, swaying along like leaves on a windy day. Flynn hesitated. He stood still, not moving a muscle. He scowled, but it quickly dissipated.  
He soaked up his fear; he wasn’t going to lose it now. He strutted up to the otter, a dwindling confidence in his eyes. He gave a tap to his shoulder, keeping his hand on it. He didn’t seem to notice until his fox partner pointed out the gila.  
Sydney turned around a smug look on his face once he noticed Flynn. He whispered to her; she nodded and gave the two some privacy.  
He looked directly into Flynn’s eyes, arms crossed. Flynn choked on his words seeing sure Sydney was, “Syd… look Syd, I… look I’m, you know-”  
“You’re sorry?” Sydney finished his sentence.  
Flynn rolled his eyes. “Yeah yeah… I’m sorry.” Flynn finished, trailing his voice off as he said the last two words, cringing.

“Apology accepted, now are you gonna loosen up a little?” Sydney reached out his hand.

“I wanna talk but…” Flynn cut himself short, letting Sydney chime in.  
“We can talk tomorrow, but please, just have fun for once in your life,” Sydney took his hand. Flynn felt a little hurt by that, but he could dare to spend a moment dancing with Sydney.  
Flynn nodded with a short smile.  
Syd pulled his friend in close, and they stepped foot and foot with the beat. Flynn had to really focus on his feet to not crush the otter’s toes. If Flynn could blush, he would have a hard time hiding it. Sydney was so warm… like a blanket when the nights of desert winter came along.  
They slid across the floor peacefully luling Flynn into a safety he hadn’t felt in so long and that he wondered if he had ever felt before this. His mood still left grim, but with the otter so close to him with his eyes closed enjoying this moment, he let it rest.  
Flynn knew he was gonna make fun of him for being all sappy, but that would wait for tomorrow. Flynn licked his lips, sniffing Sydney just a moment. God, he was acting like Leo: creepy specifically with otters. Maybe he hung out with him too much.


End file.
